


Unmasked

by ABirdInFlight



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, FtLoSW, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24283735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABirdInFlight/pseuds/ABirdInFlight
Summary: (MAJOR SEASON 5 SPOILERS)Shadow Weaver meant to die in that tunnel when when she saved Catra's life. But dying is easy. Living with the consequences of your choices is hard.This is not a story of forgiveness, nor is it even one of redemption. This is just a story of living.
Relationships: Adora & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Micah & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 151





	Unmasked

**Author's Note:**

> So. Shadow Weaver.
> 
> I’m torn. On the one hand, her death was incredibly poignant and fitting for a character like her. Sacrificing herself for Catra was honestly how I had imagined her arc ending, so I was incredibly pleased to see it happen. But on the other hand, death is the easy way out. To die means you no longer have to live with the consequences of your actions. You don’t have to change. 
> 
> Very slight trigger warning for thoughts that could be interpreted as suicidal- Shadow Weaver did have every intention of dying rather than living with the reality that she'd messed up, and that's not ignored in this story. There's also allusions to abuse, though it's quite mild all things considered- still, there's an undercurrent of darkness to this story given which character I've chosen to focus on.

_ Stop it, it’s going to kill you! _

And she’d meant for it to. The moment she’d agreed to go after Adora, she’d never intended to come back alive. It had taken all of her power to come to Adora in the first place, and the curse inside her blood had nearly eaten her alive as a result. She Ra had saved her, but there wasn’t likely to  _ be _ a She Ra for much longer. 

Shadow Weaver knew, the minute the choice was made, that her time was up. She only had to live long enough to see Adora to the Heart of Etheria, to ensure that the fail safe was activated so that Horde Prime would be destroyed and the magic sealed away for centuries could be set free. 

She never intended to take the power from the Heart.

Not this time. Not like they thought.

No matter what the others might  _ think. _

But then Adora, damn her, went back for Catra. She left a parasite alone in front of life-giving blood and expected her not to drink.

She didn’t, because Catra’s scream rang in her ears.

_ So do something good with it for once! _

It wasn’t really a choice, in the end, to go back for them. To turn away from the power that could save her (despite the screaming in her body, her mind to  _ go back, go back for it, that magic, that P O W E R…) _

No, it wasn’t a choice at all, because Adora wouldn’t leave Catra behind.

And still, Shadow Weaver’s only intention was to die. 

_ Shadow Weaver, no! What are you doing? _

It had taken nearly all of her magical energy to make it to the Heart in the first place. It was going to take the rest of it, and the little she’d managed to drain from the Heart before Catra’s scream had stopped her, to fend off the First Ones’ security system. The genetically enhanced  _ plant _ had attacked the girls for daring to come near it. It would do more to her for trying to destroy it.

Luckily, Shadow Weaver enjoyed gardening.

_ I told you to run, now run! _

Catra had never listened to her. Of course now wasn't any different. But there was no time to dwell on frustration or disappointment, no instinct left in her but to fight, to protect, to get those damn children to the Heart before it was too late- there was certainly no time to waste on sentimentality.

She wasted that time anyway.

_ I am so proud of you, Catra. _

It was only a moment. Just a moment. She had the plant behind a wall of magic, the girls safe behind another, and there were a lifetime of emotions swimming in Catra’s eyes. Adora’s eyes. 

And if they could look inside hers, they’d see it there too. 

It was the last gift she could give to them. Perhaps it was the only thing she could give to them. Here at the end, she wanted to look at them, the girls she had raised, with her own eyes.

The mask came off. 

_ You’re welcome _ . 

But Adora, damn her, couldn’t leave things be. There was a yell, a flash of blinding, brilliant light, and the silhouette of a woman against the flames Shadow Weaver had meant to kill her. 

The monster was destroyed. So was the mask. She would never wear it again.

For a moment, just a moment, Shadow Weaver’s warped green eyes met vibrant blue. 

Wrong again, wasn’t she?

Then she collapsed, and the world went black. Because the world was not a merciful place, it didn’t stay that way. 

* * *

When she came to, everything had changed.

Shadow Weaver could feel it humming in the air around her-  _ magic _ . Pure, unfettered magic. She knew immediately that she had been right and that the chains around Etheria were broken. The fail safe had worked. Etheria would be safe, and its magic was finally free.

She was lying on a grassy plain, voices chittering around her like little birds. This was not where she had fallen. This was not what she had intended.

Why was she alive?

Gingerly, Shadow Weaver pushed herself onto her knees. She ran her hands up and down her body, feeling for wounds that were not there, waiting for the magic of the curse to swallow her up- it should be eating her from the inside out after such a display of magical power as that.

It wasn’t.

Had Adora healed her again?

Shadow Weaver’s hands came up to her face, feeling the ugly scars around her eyes and the gashes in her lip that had always been there. No mask hid them now. She glanced around, and it was nowhere to be seen. She was exposed. For the first time since she was a small girl, her entire face was on display for anyone to see.

She looked around for the people who might see it, the owners of the voices she had heard. She found them rather far from her- squinting, she could see Adora, Catra, Glimmer, and the boy lying in the grass, laughing together, their arms wrapped around one another in some kind of tangled embrace. Not far were the other princesses, and Hordak and Entrapta too. 

And standing behind her was-

“Micah.”

_ Her, not so much. _

He was flanked by his sister, Castaspella, and both were staring upon her in disbelief. 

She looked away, some burning feeling clawing at her throat. She’d hidden this from them, always. The scars, the disfigurement of her mouth, the fangs- she’d never wanted them to see. Least of all Micah. It hadn’t mattered in what she’d thought would be her last moments, but now…

“Light Spinner.”

She looked back, shocked to see the outstretched hand and the wry smile on her former pupil’s face. She accepted his hand, allowing herself to be dragged back to her feet- back to reality, in truth- and the crushing fact that she really was alive. 

“So that’s what you were hiding under that veil,” Micah said with a cheeky, boyish grin. Shadow Weaver scowled. “You know, I always did wonder.” 

“Adora told us what you did,” Castaspella interrupted, the furrow in her brow suggesting she almost didn’t believe it. She placed one hand on Shadow Weaver’s shoulder, and smiled. “I didn’t think you had it in you, to be honest. But I still don’t like you.”

Shadow Weaver frowned, unsurprised but disappointed all the same. 

“But...thank you," Castaspella said, "for saving her. And for saving Micah too. I was wrong before.”

_ You don’t care about Micah. _

Shadow Weaver glanced away from Castaspella, back up to the face of her grown student. She could still see the little boy he’d been, always following her around like a little shadow. He’d loved her once. Worshiped her, even. She’d thought he betrayed her when he’d pulled away from the spell. For a long time she’d been angry with him, blaming him for the curse in her blood.

She wasn’t angry now. 

“You’re welcome,” she said, a small smile tugging the corner of her lips. Micah let go of her hand. He said nothing, and so the three of them simply stood there- three relics of Mystacor, the only ones left who remembered Light Spinner and not Shadow Weaver.

Neither sibling spoke of it. What was there to say?

Except he’d greeted her by her old name.

“You called me ‘Light Spinner’,” she commented. “I haven’t gone by that name in a very long time, you know.” 

Micah shrugged.

“You’ll always be Light Spinner to me,” he said. “Especially without that hideous mask.” 

Shadow Weaver’s lip twitched. Hideous? Her face was hideous, not the mask. She felt quite naked without it, but there was little to be done. She waved one hand as though flicking his comment aside.

Never mind that a part of her, deep down, was a little touched.

“We were close, once,” she ventured to say. 

“Once,” he agreed, a small smile on his face. But then he frowned, and turned his back to her. “Not anymore.”

Her hand fell. So it wasn’t just Shadow Weaver who was despised.

_You ruin people._

She turned away, not watching as the two sorcerers walked away from her. Instead, Shadow Weaver turned her focus back to the group of friends at the edge of the cliff, now standing together with hands clasped. Shadow Weaver moved a little closer, watching them.

These were the people for whom she had intended to give her life. Had she succeeded, perhaps they might have remembered her a little more fondly.

She had lived. So she was loathed again. 

Shadow Weaver frowned, crossing her arms- was it really so deserved? Had she not only ever acted in their best interests? She glanced away, eyes narrowing. 

_ You ruin any chance that they’ll ever be happy! _

“Hey, uh...Shadow Weaver?”

A voice snapped her out of the thoughts boiling in her head. She looked down- Adora had left her friends for the moment, and stood by Shadow Weaver now, tall and confident and whole.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say...you’re welcome.”

Shadow Weaver blinked.

“ _ What? _ ”

“For saving your life. I’m not sure you deserve it, but…”

“Then why did you?” Shadow Weaver interrupted. This was backwards, terribly backwards. Adora flipping her own attempted sacrifice on its head, using her own words against her now…

“Because that’s what good people do,” Adora said, her blue eyes narrowed. But then she softened, pressing a hand to head. “And I...I....”

Before Shadow Weaver knew what was happening, Adora’s legs had given out beneath her. 

“Adora!” On instinct Shadow Weaver reached out, catching the girl by her shoulders before she crashed to the ground. Adora’s eyes briefly rolled to the back of her head, but she stayed conscious.

“I’m okay...I’m okay,” she insisted, but did not push Shadow Weaver away. That alone was an indication of her exhaustion.

“How much magic did you use?” Shadow Weaver asked.

“Um...a lot,” Adora admitted, refusing to meet Shadow Weaver’s eyes. She tightened her grip on Adora’s shoulders as the girl's legs went slack. 

“You need to rest,” Shadow Weaver said, not unkindly. “It’s a miracle you survived at all. You’ll need to regain your strength.”

“Sad about that, are you?”

“No. And I don’t know why you insist on thinking the worst of me.”

“Hard not to.” 

Shadow Weaver scowled again, but if Adora cared to look, she may have seen a glimmer of hurt in eyes no longer hidden behind a mask. 

“Come with me,” she said, not willing to leave Adora to her own devices. Adora glanced back. Shadow Weaver followed her gaze to find the concerned eyes of Catra not too far from them. She stood apart from the Queen and her other friend (whose name Shadow Weaver had never bothered to learn). Catra had never been good at hiding her feelings, and Shadow Weaver could see the uncertainty and anxiety lining every inch of her face. 

“You too,” Shadow Weaver said with a wry smile, beckoning for the other girl to come along. Catra returned the smile and immediately ran up alongside them. 

It was almost normal, like when they were children. Adora at her side, under her wing, and Catra tagging along behind them both. Only now, Shadow Weaver looked back at Catra, considering her with new eyes. 

“Is Adora okay?” Catra asked, taking the other girl’s hands in hers. Shadow Weaver never relinquished her grip on Adora’s shoulders. 

“Yeah, I’m fine Catra,” Adora said weakly, and she leaned heavily against Shadow Weaver for support. “I just...need to sleep for a bit…”

“Is there a tent around here?” Shadow Weaver asked, glancing around- she could see nothing of the sort, but there were several patches of shady grass that might suffice. Of course, this wasn’t the encampment- the shade would have to do. She couldn’t hold Adora like this forever.

Shadow Weaver led them gently towards a more secluded area behind a copse of trees. Soft light filtered through it, and the sparkling golden bits of magic floated through the air around them. This was Etheria as it was always meant to be, and for a moment Shadow Weaver couldn’t help but admire it- it was  _ beautiful _ . 

But Adora’s weight against her side reminded her that there were more pressing matters to deal with, and so she carefully set Adora down on the ground. Catra came up from behind her and let Adora’s head rest in her lap, taking it upon herself to smooth Adora’s hair out of its ponytail, running her claws through the blonde locks. Shadow Weaver knelt beside them, not knowing where else to go or what else to do.

“Get some sleep, dummy,” Catra said softly. Adora smiled up at her, the fondest look on her face before her eyes slipped closed.

It was clear as day that something had changed between the two girls. Shadow Weaver had always had an inkling of what that was- Catra had never been subtle. She supposed it was only a matter of time before Adora returned the feeling, though she had discouraged it not so long ago.

_ Haven’t you two hurt each other enough? _

Yet they’d never looked happier or more at ease. 

A nagging sensation pulled at the back of Shadow Weaver’s mind- the sensation of being  _ wrong _ . It had become clear, as time wore on, that she had always been wrong about Catra. At first she’d hated the girl for it, for the strength she’d been hiding that had been used to overpower and imprison Shadow Weaver. Catra had destroyed her connection to the Black Garnet. Catra had replaced her in Hordak’s hierarchy. 

That had stopped mattering the moment the portal opened. Shadow Weaver thought of her initial motivation to join the Rebellion. Revenge on Hordak and Catra had seemed a paltry concern in the face of Horde Prime, and she found that even now, when Prime was no longer a threat, that she could not muster any of that old rage. Not towards Hordak, and certainly not towards Catra.

Somehow, her heart was no longer in it. 

They sat in silence for a while as Adora drifted off beneath Catra’s loving touches. Shadow Weaver could only watch, wondering why it was that Adora flinched from her own hands but so willingly allowed Catra’s to soothe her gently to sleep. Surely Catra had hurt Adora far more than Shadow Weaver ever had. Had she not only ever prepared Adora for a life of greatness? Had she not taught her, raised her, cared for her?

She’d taught Adora everything, from simple matters of tying her shoes to reading and mathematics to combat and strategy. She’d raised Adora as her own, as well as she knew how, and certainly as much as she could in the context of the Horde. Perhaps it was not how she might have raised a child in Mystacor. Perhaps it was not even how she’d taken Micah under her tutelage. 

But it had meant something to Adora, surely? It meant something to Shadow Weaver. 

_ Keep telling yourself that. _

“...Shadow Weaver?”

Catra’s voice snapped her out of her musings. Shadow Weaver looked away from Adora’s sleeping face, up to the eyes of the other girl she had raised.

“Can I...can I ask you something?” Catra’s tail curled around herself and her ears flicked downwards, but her hands never left Adora’s hair. 

Shadow Weaver nodded.

“Did...did you mean it? What you said back there…” Catra looked away, color peeking through the thin fur of her cheeks. Shadow Weaver knew what Catra was going to ask, but she waited for confirmation anyway. “That you’re proud of me.”

Catra appeared as though she desperately wished she could disappear. Shadow Weaver, for her part, was still wishing she had died. 

This was not a conversation she wanted to have. Not one she’d ever  _ planned _ to have. 

“Yes,” she said, looking away from Catra to stare at the pink and blue bushes off to the side. “You’ve grown stronger than I ever thought possible. That was all I wanted for you. And you did the right thing when it came down to it- you got Adora to the Heart.” 

With a sideways glance, she looked back to Catra, whose eyes were shining with tears. Shadow Weaver looked away again. She couldn’t bear to see this without a mask to hide behind. 

“...thanks,” Catra managed to say. Shadow Weaver opened her mouth to speak, but Catra interrupted, “And don’t say ‘you’re welcome’ again.” 

She closed her mouth. 

Another moment of silence passed. Adora slept on, blissfully unaware of the palpable tension above her.

“...why did you do it?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you...why did you come back for me?” Catra asked, nearly hissing. “Why did you try to  _ die _ like that?” Shadow Weaver let her gaze fall back upon the girl, whose hair stood on end and eyes stared up at her angrily. 

Behind the anger, Shadow Weaver saw pain. It wasn’t hard given the tears now spilling down Catra’s cheeks. She sighed. 

“Was it not obvious?” Shadow Weaver asked, quirking a non-existent brow upwards. 

“Not really,” Catra said, scrubbing at her face. “You spend all my life telling me how....how worthless I am, how useless I am to you, you abandon me in the Fright Zone, and then you just...just try to die for me?”

She was outright sobbing now, and Shadow Weaver could do nothing but stare. 

“For both of you,” Shadow Weaver admitted, gaze snapping down to Adora and back to Catra again. Catra winced. 

“...so it’s still about her, isn’t it?”

It was. And it wasn’t. Something twisted and knotted was building in Shadow Weaver’s chest, and try as she might to unravel it, she couldn’t. Whatever it was, it was heavy, and she suspected she’d wanted to die in part to avoid it. 

“I said  _ both _ of you,” she repeated, somehow trying to emphasize this  _ thing _ inside her, this feeling she could not find a way to express.

Catra sniffed, swiping at her eyes and glaring up at Shadow Weaver. But she softened quickly, quicker than maybe she ever had. She looked away and frowned. 

A great deal needed to be said. A great deal went unspoken. 

_Haven’t you done enough?_

Shadow Weaver made no move to comfort Catra. It was not her way, nor did she expect any such gestures to be welcomed. But she kept her gaze fixed, her maskless eyes communicating something beyond any words she could formulate. 

She didn’t know what she felt anyway. The knot in her chest had settled there like a weight, but as far as Shadow Weaver could tell, it had no name.

“Was it always so terrible?” she asked. Catra looked up, surprised.

“What?”

“Growing up in the Fright Zone.”

“Oh,” Catra twisted her shortened hair in her fingers. “Well...no, not all of it.” She laughed lightly despite the tears still pooling in her eyes. “I mean, I had Adora. We used to have these sleepovers, even after lights-out. Sometimes the others would join us. Lonnie and Kyle, even Rogelio. I guess we had fun together.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Shadow Weaver said, fixing Catra with an uncertain gaze. “I meant was it always terrible...with me?”

“O-oh,” Catra blew out a puff of air, visibly unsettled. But something inside Shadow Weaver needed to know. She could recall moments of peace, of having been something resembling a family- could they? 

Or was it all wrong? 

“Um...it was mostly pretty terrible,” Catra admitted, staring up at Shadow Weaver with a muted anger in her eyes. Mostly, though, she just looked sad. The knot in Shadow Weaver’s chest tightened, twisting up inside her like a vice. 

She’d done what she thought she had to do.

She’d been wrong.

_ I will never forgive you. _

Catra sniffed again. In her lap, Adora shifted, curling on her side, brows furrowed as though troubled. Catra let her hands wander back to Adora’s face, stroking the side of her cheek with the most enormous affection. 

It was clear as the moons in the sky that Catra loved Adora. 

And it was just as clear that Shadow Weaver was bearing witness to something she’d never been meant to see. She should go. She should graciously remove herself from this intimate circle where she was neither wanted nor belonged. She usually did when it came to these Princesses, often stepped aside when they were emotional or comforting one another.

But this time she didn’t. 

The knot only grew.

* * *

They returned to Bright Moon as soon as Adora awoke. 

The palace was not quite what they had left it, but nor was it entirely destroyed. A spire had been erected not far from the gates, but the structure of the building had not been touched. This was a blessing, for they were able to re-occupy the castle with little effort.

There was a makeshift celebration, of course. Queen Glimmer returned to her throne, her father, aunt, and friends now at her side. The other Princesses mingled about, celebrating the victory with one another. Scorpia remained among them, oddly glued to the side of the flower child. And Adora and Catra stayed together as well, hands constantly intertwined, as though they feared they might lose the other if they let go. 

Shadow Weaver lingered back in the dark corners of the room where she belonged, watching as the others shared toasts and danced around one another merrily. They smiled and laughed in the light. Adora kissed Catra several times. Glimmer made eyes at her male friend. Micah spoke about their victory, leading to a rousing applause from the rest of the room. Castaspella chatted amicably with one of the other princesses, her animated face vibrant and full of life. Scorpia led the group in a cheerful song after a few more drinks than were necessary had been consumed by all.

And through it all, she stood in her dark corner, arms crossed, face exposed but impassive. 

She supposed it was clear enough that she was no longer a prisoner, nor had she been in some time. But what she was, exactly, was unclear. Unwelcome. That much was obvious.

There was nothing to work towards anymore. Prime was gone. They had no need for her.

There was no power to be obtained, though the curse in her blood still lingered beneath her skin, seeking out  _ something _ to feed it. Magic filled the air now, but it was too ephemeral, out of her reach without a definitive source to take it from. She was as powerless as ever.

Adora wanted nothing to do with her.

Neither did Micah.

Nor Glimmer.

Not even Castaspella, whom she’d done nothing to whatsoever. 

The only one that might still hold any affection for her was Catra. But that was questionable at best. 

That damn knot in her chest felt ready to burst. But it didn’t. It just kept growing.

She was alone.

* * *

By morning, Shadow Weaver had gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> The knot is regret. She’ll have to live with it, wherever she goes from here. This is her real punishment, to live a lonely, miserable life with no power, no one to love her, and the weight of actual remorse on whatever’s left of her conscience. 
> 
> Shadow Weaver’s head is a weird place to be. She's a hard character to read. I think she does, in her own very twisted way, love the kids under her care. But she hasn't been good to them, and the best thing she can probably do for them is to get as far away as she can. That wasn't exactly how I thought it would end when I started writing this, but as Noelle says, Shadow Weaver is a character who takes her own path. She decided to leave. Where does she go? What does she do?
> 
> I have no idea.


End file.
